Hallelujah
by Scarlet Hanson
Summary: Austria wants to tell Hungary how he feels about her, but can only come up with music. Inspiration from the song "Love Is Not a Victory March" by Katherine Jenkins.


_Well, I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord; but you don't really care for music, do you?_

Austria struck a few chords on his piano, unable to think of much else but _her._ She was invading his mind, and he wanted to show her how desperately he needed her by his side. He needed something to prove his love, and win once and for all over Prussia.

_Well, it goes like this: the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift, the baffled king composing Hallelujah._

He allowed her sweet voice to flow throughout his mind, transforming it into a soft ballad. Each note rang in his head as one of their conversations, each chord reminding him of her smile. The crescendo towards the end overflowed with passion, and he smiled when he was finished, filling in his blank sheet music with notes.

_Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah._

As soon as Austria finished his work, he looked it over. He began to feel nervous. What if she didn't like it? What if his music drove her away? He swallowed loudly, his palms sweaty. He prayed to God that she didn't want him to say it in words, because he knew he'd screw it up if he tried.

_Well, baby, I've been here before. I've seen this room and I've walked this floor. I used to live alone before I knew you._

His hand shaking, he titled his work. If she didn't understand his confession within the music, this would definitely do it. He looked around the room, remembering the time before she came, when he was all alone. Now, between her and his little maid girl, Italy, there was almost never quiet in the house. The two had gone grocery shopping for the day, and he was left alone for the moment. He took in the silence, both loving it and hating it.

_And I've seen your flag on the marble arch, but love is not a victory march._

He remembered her words from long ago, when he first took her as his. She was screaming and crying.

"You can't make me love you by force! I hate you!" she had cried.

Now, things were much different. The two got along nicely with their reserved personalities, and she took well to taking care of the household while he managed business. Their relationship was almost like marriage, but without love. But Austria had grown an undying love for her, and he had to show her. His only hope was that she didn't turn him away or leave.

_It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah. Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah._

"I'm home!" He heard from the front door. He could hear the smile in Hungary's voice, and his anxiety deepened. He started to back out of his plan. "I can't do this..." he muttered to himself, taking off his glasses and kneading the bridge of his nose.

_There was a time when you let me know what's really going on below. But now, you never show that to me, do you?_

Hungary entered his den, where Austria was sitting behind his piano. He looked very worried about something. She sat in the living chair that she had pulled up next to his piano long ago.

"What's wrong, sweet Roderich?" she asked, massaging his shoulder soothingly.

He jumped up, covering his papers. "Nothing, Elizabeta."

She could still sense his tenseness, and recalled a night when he was just as stiff. "Italy!" she called.

_But remember when I moved with you, and the Holy Dove was moving, too._

Italy showed up in the doorway. "Yes?"

"Please play us a tune. A waltz, if you will." Hungary smiled at Austria, who looked back at her with confusion.

"Un," Italy agreed, and climbed onto the piano stool once Hungary had gently helped Austria off of it. He smiled gently, and offered her his hand. She placed her hand in his, placing the other on his shoulder. He took her by the waist and let her into a dance, just like the first night they had met. Italy played extremely well for a young nation, and that made Austria smile even more. As they danced, Hungary gazed kindly into Austria's eyes. He looked back at her with the same compassion, and she sighed contentedly.

_And every breath we drew was hallelujah. Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah._

When the waltz was finished, Austria bowed as Hungary curtsied as thanks for the dance. Austria felt his resolve strengthen, and dismissed Italy to play. He gave her the day off, and Italy said an excited "thank you" before she ran off to paint and play with the Holy Roman Empire.

"Elizabeta," Austria began. "There's something I want to show you."

_Maybe there's a God above, but all I've ever learned from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you._

"I'm not sure if you'll like it, but..." Austria trailed off.

Hungary smiled knowingly because she knew how bad he was with words. "I understand," she cooed. "I would be delighted to see what you want to show me."

"Not _show_, perhaps," Austria admitted with a nervous laugh. "It's some music I composed while you were out."

Hungary beamed. "On the piano? I'd love to hear you play!" She took him by the hand and led him back to the piano stool, resuming her position next to him.

He swallowed, placed his sheet music, and began to play.

It was the most beautiful thing Hungary had ever heard. She marveled at this man she loved so dearly, tears forming in her eyes.

_It's not a cry you can hear at night. It's not somebody who's seen the light. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah._

Austria turned to her when his song was finished, and smiled nervously. "Well, that was it."

Hungary smiled, holding back tears. "It was wonderful." She sniffed, and laughed at herself for being so emotional. "Did you name it?"

"I did," he said, handing over the cover sheet for the music. Written on it, in elegant letters, were the words "Elizabeta's Sonnet".

Hungary's tears spilled over. She understood now. He loved her, and this was his confession. He knew he was incapable of saying it, so he wrote her a song instead. She put the paper on top of the piano. She darted out of her seat and kissed an unsuspecting Austria passionately. He was surprised at first, wondering if he should stop her. He realized it didn't matter what he should and shouldn't do, because he wanted her right where she was. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her onto his lap. She broke the kiss and he wiped the tears from her eyes as she smiled brightly at him. He smiled back, and gave her his handkerchief. She wiped her face and kissed him again, more gently and warmly than before.

_Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah._


End file.
